Editing KSGU:Volume 8 Chapter 1 (section)

===Part 10===

The man shown on the monitor looked around 40 years old, was used to being the focal point of attention, and was familiar that he looked charismatic. To a handsome looking man like him similar to that of an actor, this was not uncommon for a role like his. But he was able to act like this so reasonably and yet brazenly, like he was facing a mirror, and this aspect could not be explained simply by his background and upbringing. Perhaps it was the unique characteristic this man had.
 
(I understand the situation, but it’s tough for me too. The Republic’s army is limited in movement. We need to gain the approval of the Federation if we want to move out of our own range.)
 
Monaghan Bakharov, 44 years old, the eldest son of the Ex-prime minister of the Zeon Republic who occupied the position for a long time, Darcia Bakharov, and the current defense minister. On the surface, it seemed that he followed his father’s footsteps and pushed for the policy the Federation pursued, but he was secretly a rightist gathering the dissolved parties of the Republic, and the one stoking the revival of Zeonism. To Neo Zeon, he was a sponsor who had been supporting the Neo Zeon army quietly…but to Angelo, this man was someone he did not like.
 
He used his background of the 3rd generation of a political family as a selling point, and used his nice looking mask to gain the support of the people. It was still bearable to see that he, who was assigned to the space fortress “A Baoa Qu”, viewed himself to be a war veteran all because he experienced the feeling of defeat deep within the fortress. What was most unbearable however was his overly perfect self-act. He always made others see himself as the center of the attention, and act according to what the other party wanted him to be, but never put others in his eyes. If he were not a truly arrogant person, it would be hard to see him as something else.
 
''There are often people like this amongst the ‘guests’. Angelo thought of this, and he clenched his fist due to unhappiness. He deliberately moved away to avoid being seen on the camera, and looked down at the lush blond hairs standing in front of him. “There should be a fleet training far away.” Full Frontal remained unmoved in the face of Monaghan as he spoke with a clear voice.
 
“You’re the Ambitious Defense Minister Monaghan. I suppose there are patriots amongst the defense fleet undergoing training under you, right?”
 
Frontal said as his masked face showed the reflected light from the monitor, and his lips twist with a smile. Frontal’s office was decorated like a VIP room, located in a corner of the “Rewloola”, and over here, only the owner of the room and Angelo were present. Monaghan narrowed his eyes a little, (I should say that you’ve checked me here.) he answered, but his voice remained steady as if he was reading a script.
 
(I certainly do have the means to operate this, but it’s not going to be fun bringing the Republic to the surface now. The recent commotions have made Zeon rather noticeable, though I do hope that the “Sleeves” can react better…)
 
“The incidents on Earth were caused by radicals on Earth, not planned by us Neo Zeon.”
 
(But the world doesn’t think this way. The Federation Council wants to use this chance to stoke the operations to eliminate Zeon, saying that this is the start of the third Neo Zeon War. Some people also insisted on investigating the republic—)
 
“And I heard that you still can’t grasp the whereabouts of the “Nahel Argama” even through that meeting. It’ll take time for our main fleet to move to the Moon, and even if we have to use the ships hidden in Side 6, we need even the tiniest clue we can get. In this case, the Republic forces surrounding the Moon have a better chance of searching through the area than the Federation.”
 
Monaghan was questioned by this cold voice endlessly, and his expression faltered as he was at a loss of words. Angelo’s lips curled up, thinking to himself that there was such a vast difference between those two. Monaghan’s self-directed script was at a level of a politician, but Frontal hoped to be the vessel for the will of all Spacenoids and turned his role into this. At this moment, Frontal again put on his mask ‘again’, deciding to act out this role thoroughly. There was no way a vulgar man like Monaghan could compare to him.
 
''Just continue on with that baseless Nationalist speech that has nothing in it. The day of Frontal’s rise will come, and this man is destined to be the king for the abandoned Spacenoids, burning all injustice and bringing us to a pure world without stain. That day to rise will come''—Angelo forgot about his reality as he was intoxicated in that awaited moment he imagined. (I understand.) Monaghan’s voice seemed so distant.
 
(But since it’s a mean we can only do under the tables, there’s still a limit to how much we can do.)
 
“It’s fine. As long as we know where the “Nahel Argama” is headed to, the escort squad and I will leave from the “Rewloola” first.”
 
(I’ll leave it to you. The current Republic army can’t take a real battle, whether it’s the equipment or the manpower. They’re unlike the “Sleeves” now.)
 
“And the one who granted the “Sleeves” this power is you, Defense Minister Monaghan Bakharov.”

To add on, Monaghan Bakharov was also the one who accepted Cardeas Vist’s proposal and allowed the deal of the “Laplace Box”. He forgot his act and showed a speechless expression before disappearing from the monitor, and Frontal stood up without showing signs of letting down his guard,
 
“It’s just like what you heard. Install boosters on the shackles, and get ready for a long distance raid. It’s about time to launch.”
 
The order became a jolt that shocked through Angelo’s before, and he answered, “Yes…!” Frontal kicked the floor and leaned his body to the window on the wall.
 
“But are they reliable? They lost all guts because of the clauses in the defeat, and the Republic army doesn’t seem like one now. If we’re to rely on guys who don’t know how to fight for real, who only know how to yap about Nationalism—”
 
“It’s possible. As long as we align our pieces, the “Nahel Argama” will report its position.
 
Angelo did not understand these words as he looked at the back of the bright red uniform. Frontal looked at the window, and his masked face looked into the vacuum, with no intention of looking back.
 
“A human heart is really hard to grasp…but hatred won’t vanish that easily.”
 
He looked at the darkness no ordinary person could peer into, and his back looked frozen as he looked into space. Angelo looked at the rose on the desk, clenched the fist that felt sensation of pain before, and left the office without a doubt.
 
There was no need for reason or explanation. He could die anytime for this person. With this new realization, Angelo floated his burning body to the corridor.